That gentle little knock at my bedroom door always made me smile. I watched the handle turn, and then waited for Sophie to poke her head through.

It was a pretty regular occurrence these days, and I was just so thankful she kept wanting to come in for her morning snuggle as she'd gotten older. Some of my close male friends had been hurt when their daughters had dialed back the affection with them as they'd blossomed through their teens. But for some reason, Sophie never pulled back.

I can't put my finger on why, and to be honest, I don't really care.

Sophie alternated between my ex-wife and I, living a week with me and a week with her. The arrangement suited us all well, considering.

Their eyes locked across the bar, and his face flushed instantly. He got redder and redder by the second, but he told himself that he was not going to be the one who looked away first, as he usually did....

He had noticed her around the small town in which he lived, for months now and always found himself casting surreptitious glances at her whenever he got the chance. He was just eighteen and had found out, through a friend of a friend, that she was thirty-one, separated from her husband and that she had a five or six year-old daughter.

It was a late Saturday night, maybe around 10 pm or so. I was relaxing on the couch watching TV. The lights were turned off, and my boyfriend Mike was out having a guy's night out with his best friend Jack. This was so perfect. I had a nice night to myself, doing woman things like doing my nails, taking a wonderful hot bath, and even shaving my legs, and my pussy so soft and silky.

I was wearing just a long triple x-shirt, I borrowed from Mike's closet, no bra, and a sexy black thong underneath. Out of nowhere, the door unlocked, and opened. It was Mike, and Jack coming in. I was startled.

My brother looked at my sister and I, nervously, with his softening cock in his hand. Kristen looked at me and leaned in for her kiss. My sister and I fucked each other often. We also fucked my dad on a regular basis. My poor brother had been left out of all this. He had always been kind of a cocky ass to me and Kristen. I thought it might be fun to pay him back a little.

“Charles,What the fuck were you doing spying on us,” I asked him .

He ignored the question, and instead asked, “Does Dad know you and Kristen are fucking?”

“Yes Charles, he sure does. Does he know you are spying on your sisters,” I shot back.

He said nothing just looked at Kristen and I with lustful eyes. I told him to come upstairs to the bedroom that Kristen and I shared.

This was gonna be an awesome week. Spring break! I was ready for fun and sun in Florida. I was with my best girlfriends and we were hot and ready to party.

When we got to the club, the scene was wild. There was a wet tee shirt contest. I considered entering, but I knew that with my tits being so small I would never win over Kim. She had some DD tits with big brown nipples. So I skipped it and opted to dance.

My friend Casey and I were dancing and rubbing on each other. We were grinding on each other and generally having fun. A few guys came over and I was wondering which one of them I was going to go back to the hotel room with. I was about to settle on a young tan playboy type. He was a great dancer and I could feel his thick cock through his pants.

I'm going to tell you about a secret sex encounter with my brother Jacob. I'm thirty-four now, but this was back when I was nineteen and Jacob was sixteen. He was a horny little fuck; his hormones were out of control.

It all started when I was seventeen. I was sexually active with my boyfriend. I loved sex; I masturbated constantly at night in bed. My parents had sex all the time, and believe me, they were not the quiet couple. I used to go to the door and listen to them fuck. It was not that my parents got me off, but the hard sounds of pure sex were what did it for me. My mom was a loud moaner, and my dad was a nasty dirty talker. I loved hearing it.

I pull my smartphone from under my pillow and look for that message icon on the top left side of the screen. You are the only one on earth who knows my private messenger name and who has ever heard my voice through the cyber channels. Over the past month, I’ve slowly revealed myself to you, but not less intimately. I realize I might have made you uncomfortable yesterday when I exposed my breasts to you; but you told me not to apologize. However, you didn’t tell me not to do it again.

Your flirting skills need much improvement, but your innocence makes me smile. I love the way you tell me where you are going, what you are eating and what you are doing (all with pictures for proof). I feel you are here with me. I love that feeling to the point where it’s impossible to release it.

It’s a well established fact that I have a thing for smart men. It started when I watched Indianna Jones as a little girl and fell in love with Harrison Ford’s character in the classroom. Since then, I’ve had countless crushes on my male teachers (and a few late night fantasies about the female ones as well) throughout my educational years.

I was a good girl and never did anything other than stare and fantasize while I was in my senior year of high school even though I could have done a lot more than just look. My dark chestnut hair reached my waist with a slight curl to the bottom, my breasts had been a full C-cup since they’d sprung up one summer and my size 2 jeans fit just snugly enough to entice without being uncomfortable.